


the afterglow in full bloom

by olympvs



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Coda, Gen, Post-Canon, Rebuilding, there's light flirting with Avad but it doesn't really go anywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympvs/pseuds/olympvs
Summary: There is a restless thrumming in her veins, something that’s always been there. It pushed her out, towards Cradles and Cauldrons, tracking Eclipse members and digging into the secrets of the Old Ones. She thought with HADES finally put away the feeling would cease, even just a little, and finds instead that it’s stronger than ever.-After HADES is defeated, Aloy realizes that her job is not quite done yet.
Relationships: Aloy & Avad (Horizon: Zero Dawn)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	the afterglow in full bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prosodiical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/gifts).



> To [prosodiical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/), I hope you enjoy this!  
> When I first encountered this game it completely took over my life. More than anything, I was drawn in by its masterful storytelling and wonderfully determined protagonist. It was really a delight to be able to return to this world through fic, and to explore it in a way I hadn't before. 
> 
> A huge thank you to my friends for putting up with my endless grousing about the fic-writing process, especially Nic and AJ, the latter of whom inspired my love for this game in the first place. Also, a very heartfelt shoutout to Brenna, for braving our first Yuletide together. I'm happy to have done this with you.
> 
>   
> Title from the song "Carrion Flowers", which I found through [this](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5JgL9DheoYci27zdTA1Dim?si=Z9WG8onnR6SyaazBJhHWHA) wonderful Aloy playlist.

“I am more than a threat,” Aloy says, plunging Sylens’ spear into the glowing orange heart of HADES. She heaves as she does so, over and over, the weight of all her frustration and fear and loss beckoning the spear downwards in an inexorable push. 

Afterwards, when the hum of volatile machines has shuddered to a stop and the world is blanketed in white noise, she steps out onto a ledge facing Meridian. Erend is by one side, Varl on the other, and for a moment her eyes flutter shut as she takes in the stillness of it all. Then she raises her bow above her head with a wild yell, hears her companions do the same. It’s too far to actually tell through the glint of harsh sunlight, but she swears she can see Avad standing tall at the top of Meridian, doing the same. 

Varl comes up next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What now, Anointed?” he asks, and Aloy is too lost for words to protest the designation. What now, indeed? HADES is gone, and Aloy finally has answers to the questions she’s been asking all her life — or at least, she has some of them. She takes a deep breath, steadies herself. 

“Now, we rebuild.” 

*

She makes her way back to Meridian, checks that Avad and the others are okay, tends to those who are wounded. She watches over the Nora as they gather those they’ve lost, their already decimated numbers made even smaller. She hasn’t yet let go of all of her ire in how they’ve treated her, and how quickly they were willing to change their tune after a lifetime of spitting in her face. But she has friends among them, too, knows of their soft hearts, and feels the mourning of the Nora all the same. The pain that HADES wrought knows no locus, traverses tribes and land boundaries. 

“You know, we could use you here in Meridian,” Avad says to her a few days later. He looks out on the ruins surrounding the city, the collapsed buildings and wreckage that no one has had time to see to yet. A few days’ time has him weathering the weight of a dozen years. The enormity of all that he has to take care of is staggering, and Aloy doesn’t envy him in the slightest. 

There is a restless thrumming in her veins, something that’s always been there. When she was younger it was the drive to better herself, to hone her skills for the Proving that would one day lead to her acceptance. Then it pushed her out, towards Cradles and Cauldrons, tracking Eclipse members and digging into the secrets of the Old Ones. She thought with HADES finally put away the feeling would cease, even just a little, and finds instead that it’s stronger than ever. 

“Okay,” she says to Avad, and hopes this will quiet the insistent noise inside her. 

They quickly discover that even though the machines have become more docile since HADES’ demise, the Derangement is not truly gone. HADES was never the cause of it, not really — without GAIA to lead them Aloy knows the machines will continue to slip into disrepair, straying from their original intention. Though ridding HADES from their system has helped quell some of the most prominent aggressive behavior, the machines are still a threat. 

At first Aloy stays close to the city, assisting the guard in keeping both machine and bandit alike away from the rebuilding effort. She’s out on patrol, fighting off Glinthawks to stop them from destroying what little remains of Meridian Fields, and doesn’t notice Avad coming up behind her until she’s planting her foot on a downed machine, pulling an arrow loose from the shattered freeze sac at its throat. 

“You never seem to know how to back away from a fight, even when all signs point to you being in over your head. It’s… admirable.” 

Aloy kneels to rummage through the salvagable parts of the machine, tucking an unblemished heart into her bag. 

“Does it remind you of Ersa?” she says, something of a wry smile tugging at her mouth. 

“No,” Avad says, with such candor that Aloy pauses, turning to meet his gaze. She can’t seem to parse the expression on his face, smooth but not emotionless. 

“Perhaps I would’ve said that, once,” he continues. “I still think there are many ways in which the two of you are similar. But I’ve also come to know better than to compare you to anyone else. You are quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met or anyone I will meet, of that I’m certain. The only person you could remind me of is yourself, and even then you continue to surprise me.” 

Aloy doesn’t know how to respond to that, and perhaps Avad doesn’t expect her to, because he just sticks out a hand instead. She grasps his palm and lets him tug her upright, his skin sun-warmed and bright, fingertips calloused in the same places as her. There’s comfort in the warm brown of his eyes and Aloy turns away, flustered and angry at herself for it. 

“What are you even doing way out here? I thought you’d be stuck up in the Palace, dealing with all that royal nonsense.” 

“I was, for a while,” Avad admits. “But I don’t think I can properly help my city heal if I don’t even know the extent of everything that’s happening.” He gestures out towards the blackened land in front of him, the few homes that have managed to remain. “Even in the worst of my father’s reign, I never could’ve imagined devastation like this. But I have to witness it. I’d be a cowardly leader if I didn’t.” 

Aloy looks at him, appraising. “You do a lot for your people.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s enough, honestly. My father brought so much unnecessary bloodshed and pain into our kingdom; I felt even a thousand lifetimes might not atone for it. Then there was Dervahl and Helis and now this… it seems Meridian must continue to suffer. But I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. There wouldn’t be a Meridian at all if it wasn’t for you.” 

Aloy watches while, in the distance, a young child wanders up to the remains of a Ravager. He has a small, blunt spear in his hands and he brandishes it at the fallen machine, making noises at it while he does. His mother hurries over and tugs him away, one hand propping up a basket of medicinal supplies against her body, the other wrapped around the boy’s. 

“Yeah, well,” Aloy says after a moment. “It’s a city worth protecting.”

“I’d have to agree,” Avad replies, and when he smiles at her she smiles back, ignoring the way it doesn’t seem to sit quite right on her face.

*

About a week later Aloy and Talanah get assigned to escort a caravan from Free Heap to Meridian, and she is grateful for the opportunity to be back on the move. She’d been traveling for a while now, chasing one threat to another, and staying in one place was beginning to chafe at her. Here on the road there’s plenty of ways for Aloy to make herself useful, and she repeats this to herself this as the days go by. 

But there’s an uneasy feeling knocking at her ribcage, and it becomes harder and harder to ignore. During the day she scouts the land around them, uncertain of what exactly she is expecting to find. She watches a pack of Broadheads move placidly across the plains and wonders how much of GAIA still lingers in them; she listens to the sound of churning water as they travel along the river and sees the holo image of POSEIDON, infected and tearing itself away from GAIA’s side. She feels like she’s missed a step she expected to be there, or like she’s reaching out for a handhold only to find it slightly off center from where it’s supposed to be.

It’s late one night, the party they’re escorting gathered around the caravan swapping stories, and Aloy sits by the fire with Talanah. For a little while there’s just the sound of fire crackling against the flesh of the rabbit they caught for dinner, and Aloy loses herself to dance of the flames. 

“Alright, out with it,” Talanah says, and Aloy startles.

She looks at Talanah in surprise. “What do you mean.” 

“Your spark is off, Thrush.” 

Aloy’s brow furrows. “I’ve been doing just fine. No bandits have attempted to cross us, and we took down that Thunderjaw earlier without much of a problem at all. Need I remind you that I got the killing blow?”

Talanah rolls her eyes. “You’re a fine hunter, Aloy, I never said you weren’t. But I’ve seen you when you’re fired up, I know what you look like when you’re locked in to whatever mission you’ve set yourself on. This isn’t it. Why are you bothering to help cart some hunks of scrap metal around when I know there’s somewhere else you could be stirring up trouble?” 

Aloy stalls, looking back into the fire. It snaps around a fresh log, flames licking hungrily at whatever they can reach. “There’s still work to be done. A lot of Meridian was damaged in the attack and people still need protecting.” 

She jolts as she feels something knock against her knee and looks up to see that Talanah has scooted over to sit next to her, nearly pressed up against Aloy’s side. When she speaks again her voice is softer. 

“That’s true. But it’s okay, you know. You did it, you saved the day, you’re the big hero. You can leave cleaning up this mess to the rest of us. Your heart’s being called somewhere else; you should follow it.” 

Aloy looks at her for a long moment before nodding. They don’t speak of it again on their travel back to the city, but when they arrive Aloy gives herself exactly one night’s rest before she goes to speak to Avad. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” he says, sighing when she tells him of her plan to leave. “As wonderful as it’s been to have you around, I never fooled myself into thinking it would be permanent.” He gives her a half-smile, wry but not unkind. “I know it’s pointless to try to entice you to stay — I’ve made that mistake before. And besides, I can admit that it would also be selfish, at least in part.” 

Aloy feels a slight flush run up her cheeks. “You’ve been kind to me, Avad. And… there is much that I like here.” 

“But whatever you’re doing, your work isn’t done,” Avad surmises. 

Aloy shrugs a shoulder. “Something like that.” 

Avad looks at her, gaze serious. “You’ve always been called to something greater. Certainly I wouldn’t want to be the one to get in the way of that. Do what you have to do, Aloy. Just know there will always be a place for you here, should you want one.” 

“I appreciate that,” Aloy says, and finds that she means it.

*

Aloy makes her way to Meridian Gate and finds Erend waiting in the cool shadow of the archway — or, what’s left it. He’s looking out on the surrounding desert land, squinting, but when he sees Aloy his expression clears. 

“Aloy!” he calls out, opening his arms. She falls into the hug easily, thumps him on the back and pulls back to look at him. 

“Avad tells me you’re heading out,” he says. “What, you get bored of city watch already?” 

“There’s work to do elsewhere,” Aloy says, shrugging, but Erend’s smiling so she doesn’t feel badly about it. 

“That always seems to be the way with you. Not going to stop another world-ending threat, I hope? I don’t think we could stand up to another one so soon.” 

“Nothing like that,” Aloy says. She thinks of GAIA self destructing, of Cauldrons with capabilities she hasn’t even begin to conceive of yet. “Just… trying to help repair some of the damage in different ways. And make sure it won’t happen again, I suppose.” 

Erend searches her face for a moment. “There’s a whole world you belong to that me and these other knuckleheads know nothing about. Truthfully I don’t think we’ll ever be able to keep up. But you know you can always count on us, right? You call, we’re there.” 

Aloy feels the warm glow of friendship settle in her chest, and her smile is genuine. “Yeah, I know. It means a lot Erend, thank you.” 

He nods, clasps her on the shoulder and then takes a step back. “I probably don’t need to tell you to stay safe, but eh, I’m sentimental like that, so stay safe anyway, okay?” 

“I always do my best.” 

Erend shakes his head. “I guess that’s all I could expect.” 

With a final nod to him and the other Vanguard lingering about, Aloy heads out into the desert. She taps her Focus, following its guide to a nearby pack of Chargers. Whistling, she draws one away from the pack, quickly jabbing her spear into its side and watching as the skittish machine thrashes for a moment and then stills, ready to be led. 

For a moment she runs a hand across its side, wondering if repairing GAIA will mean she can do this without having to override them. She hasn’t known a world without the Derangement, a world where the machines work as they were intended to, protecting the earth that Zero Dawn fought so hard for. But she won’t find out unless she finds a way to heal GAIA, and with that thought Aloy swings herself atop the Charger’s back and makes her way towards GAIA prime.

Faro had hindered them, wiped clean any chance of truly learning all that had come before. Something or someone had triggered HADES and GAIA’s other subordinates to break away from her, to become hostile. And yet, the earth still found a way. People persisted, creating new traditions, learning to build the mythologies that would shape their lives. _There’s a whole world outside your borders_ , she had yelled to the Nora outside of Eleuthia-9. 

People could be cruel; Aloy had known that all her life. But they could be kind, too. Fierce and protective, cunning and quick witted — she had encountered people of every kind and what she had found was a world worth saving. Bringing down HADES had revealed with pointed clarity all that there was to protect, and she understands perhaps better than she ever did before what Elisabet had hoped for in creating Zero Dawn.

Aloy pushes herself forward, watches ravaged Carja land give way to gentle green slopes, becoming snow under the hooves of her mount. She takes the Charger as far as it will bring her up the mountain and then begins the hazardous process of climbing up to the mouth of the facility. The rudimentary path Sylens made still holds, and before long Aloy finds herself back before the large metal doors. 

The last time she was here, Aloy was in a frenzy to find the master override. There was no time to stop and explore what lay hidden in the craters of the facility, no time to uncover what secrets may still be hiding here. She thinks about Elisabet’s journals, damaged but slowly coming back to life through the Focus’s work. She thinks about GAIA, leaving one last desperate message, uncertain if it would ever be heard but hoping — in a startlingly human way — that it would make it through anyway. She thinks about Elisabet sacrificing herself for the sake of the other Alpha members, for the sake of a future that would outlast her. Aloy feels the crunch of snow beneath her boots and hears the distant cry of Stormbird and feels Elisabet — feels _GAIA_ in every bit of it. 

She steps forward, bathing herself in the familiar red light of the scanner. 

“Hold for Identiscan. Genetic identity confirmed. Entry authorized.” A synthetic voice rings out as the doors slide open, a chill wind blowing in from the other side. Aloy steps forward and ahead of her, through rubble and collapsed snow, points of blue light glow where her Focus picks up still-functioning tech, holding the promise of something more. 

“Greetings, Dr. Sobeck. You are cleared to proceed.” 

Aloy looks into expanse and grins. “Alright, Elisabet. Let’s see what else you’ve got for me.” 


End file.
